The Roller Coaster
by Annabell Archer
Summary: Sherlock didn't want to be there, but he lost a bet with John. Now he's stuck at an amusement park. Joy.


"I don't want to be here." groaned Sherlock, crossing his arms.

"Too bad." said John, smiling. "You lost the game."

"I still think it's unfair." said Sherlock, glaring at the surrounding crowd. "How was I supposed to know what you had in your pocket?"

"You always know. You know what I have in my pockets right now. I honestly expected you to win. Again."

"You usually keep your wedding ring on, not in your damn pocket."

John just rolled his eyes and walked up the woman at the desk and paid for two tickets into the theme park. "Let's go." he said, jerking his head in the direction of the turnstiles, an even wider smile breaking out on his face.

Sherlock groaned and stomped over, a bit like a stubborn child.

.o.O.o.

"Come on, Sherlock, just try some." goaded John.

"I don't like fairy floss, John" said Sherlock, not looking at the pink sweet.

John rolled his eyes, and dumped the rest into the nearest trash bin. "Come on, Sherlock. At least try to enjoy yourself. Theme parks are supposed to be fun."

"This is not fun, John. Triple murder with no crime scene contamination and a complicated path to follow..." Sherlock's eyes were glazing over, as he fantasized about his cases.

"You're drooling Sherlock." said John, vaguely, looking at the park map. "I think we should start with the Launch Pad. That looks like a big coaster. What do you think?"

"I think we should go home."

"Well, I think it's a surprise to see you two here." said a voice from behind them, causing both of the men to jump slightly with alarm.

"Oh, hi Greg. Fancy meeting you here." said John, looking up from the map to see the graying detective.

"Lestrade, please tell me you came here to take me to a crime scene." said Sherlock, almost begging.

"Sorry to disappoint." said Lestrade, trying to keep a smile off his face at the sight of the desperate detective. "I'm just here for a vacation. Fairy floss?" he offered some of the stringy candy to Sherlock, who just glared at him.

"Don't bother, Greg." said John, his eyes back on the map. "He's very insistent that he doesn't want to be here."

"Well then why did you come?" he asked, looking at the detective.

"Because John is forcing me."

John rolled his eyes, "What he meant to say is, 'because I lost against my most amazing friend John in a game, because he is better than me, and I agreed that if I lost I would come to an amusement park with him.'"

"Which is an incredible misnomer." said Sherlock, gazing around. "I am thoroughly _not_ amused."

Both John and Lestrade glanced at each other, then rolled their eyes before the latter spoke again. "Have you two been on the Launch Pad yet?"

"No, but we were just considering going." said John. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Alright, _I_ was considering going. Sherlock was being a baby."

Sherlock looked as if he was about to say something very unpleasant to his doctor friend, but Lestrade spoke first. "You two should go on it. It goes up for what seems like miles, then drops you back down! It's amazing!"

"That sounds great! Come on, Sherlock." said John, folding up the map.

"It can't go up for miles, the air would become too thin to breathe." muttered Sherlock as he unwillingly followed John in the direction of the monstrous roller coaster.

"Wait for me!" called Lestrade, he, too, dropping his fairy floss in the nearest trash can.

.o.O.o.

"John we should go. The line for this ride is too long."

"Come on, Sherlock, we're almost to the front." said John, turning from the conversation he was having with Lestrade a moment before.

"Yeah." said Lestrade, "And you do _not_ want to miss this ride."

Eventually the trio were at the front, they were mere minutes away from getting on the legendary ride. "Hello, sir?" said a nearby worker to Lestrade. "Would you mind getting on this next ride? I'm afraid it would separate you from your friends, but..."

"Oh, sure thing. You guys don't mind, right?" said Lestrade, turning to the pair he was with.

John said he should go ahead and Sherlock said nothing, which the others took as meaning he didn't have a problem with it.

Once the roller coaster with Lestrade on it left John turned to Sherlock. "Not feeling very chatty are you?" he said, as the detective hadn't spoken for ten minutes or so. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, peering at his friend.

"Fine." he hissed shortly. Suddenly the next roller coaster pulled up. The gate opened, letting people onto the ride. John and Sherlock sat down. They fastened the safety harness. The harnesses were checked by workers. The roller coaster began moving up. And up. And up, going up the huge hill that Lestrade had mentioned, with the gears underneath them creaking as if they might snap at any moment.

"Sherlock... are you sure you're alright? You look a paler than normal." said John, looking at his friend, whose hands had a death grip on his harness, and eyes were about to bug out of his head.

"I'm fine, John." he hissed in a hoarse whisper.

They went higher and higher, and Sherlock got paler and paler. Finally they got to the top, for a moment the teetered at the top, waiting for gravity to take hold and yank them down. In that one moment Sherlock spoke. "Goodbye, John." The doctor's head whipped around and he glared at his friend. "Sorry..." Sherlock muttered. Then gravity took hold.

The details of the ride will not be given, but it's safe to say that those riding in front of Sherlock would've sworn they had a 7-year-old girl with a potty mouth behind them.

But eventually the ride was over, and a very sick looking John and Sherlock got off. They could see Lestrade through a window, looking at the pictures taken during the ride, but before he got a chance to catch sight of them, John yanked Sherlock off to the side.

"Sherlock, what the hell was that?"

The detective was breathing slightly heavily, though now he had gained some of the little color in his skin, and he managed to choke out, "what was what?"

"You know what. At the top of the roller coaster. Why did you say that?" asked John, irritated.

Sherlock looked awkward, and it was clear he wasn't going to answer. "Sherlock," said John slowly, "are... are you afraid of heights?"

"No." cried Sherlock. Then: "Yes. A little."

"Oh my god." said John, "I honestly can't believe it.

"Well, I did fall off a building. When we got to the top I started having flashbacks." he muttered, looking at the floor. "Ever since then I've been terrified of heights."

"So have I." said John quietly.

"Then why the hell did you think this roller coaster was a good idea!" exclaimed Sherlock.

"Because, I learned in Afghanistan that it's best to face a fear when you have it, because if you're not overcoming your fear then it's holding you back."

Sherlock was silent for a while as he pondered his friend's words. "... did it work? Are you still afraid of heights?"

"Hell yes! I'm never doing anything like that again! That was the most terrifying thing I've ever done in my life! And I've been strapped to a bomb before."

"Never again?" asked Sherlock.

"Never again." agreed John. "Let's go home."

The pair finally got out and walked over to Lestrade. "Hey there." said Lestrade. "Was that ride amazing or what?"

"Or what." said John and Sherlock together. Then John said. "This has been fun, Greg, but I think the two of us are going to head back home."

"Hang on," the older man was now trying to hold back laughter, "you two haven't even seen the picture yet." he laughed and pointed at one of the screens on the top row. Sherlock's eyes widened in horror. John looked relatively normal, his mouth firmly shut as if he might vomit and his eyes slightly crossed. Sherlock, on the other hand had his mouth wide open in what was clearly a scream, his eyes still bugging out of his head, looking as if he would pass out at any moment.

"They need to delete that now." said Sherlock, rushing over to the nearest worker.

"Joke's on him." muttered Lestrade to John. "I've already bought four copies."

.o.O.o.

Finally, after twenty minutes of yelling at Sherlock to stop chasing the poor employee around, the pair were making their way towards the exit wordlessly.

On the way John grabbed another bag of fairy floss. "Want some?" he said, offering the bag to his friend.

Sherlock shrugged. "Why not?"


End file.
